


What Now?

by camichats



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, S8E4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 01:12:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18728665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camichats/pseuds/camichats
Summary: Jon and Tormund are together, despite Jon's occasional stupidity. So with the war over, what does Jon do next? Hint: Tormund thinks it should be with him.





	What Now?

**Author's Note:**

> Best thing about this episode: the Jonmund moments ^-^

Jon couldn't help but smile fondly and laugh helplessly as Tormund got progressively more drunk, gesturing with his horn and sloshing wine on the floor at every turn. He thought about saying it was Dornish wine, and therefore too good to be spilling on the floor, but that wouldn't mean anything to Tormund. Plus he was having so much fun that Jon didn't want to dampen his spirits for even a moment. 

"And then this cunt rides a dragon!" he said, slinging an arm around Jon's neck. He was stronger and considerably bigger than Jon, so he just moved along with Tormund's swaying and hoped for the best. "Did you see him?" 

"Yes, Tormund, we all saw him." 

"He was riding a dragon! A _dragon_. Who does that? Crazy fuckers, that's who. A bloody king among men!" he said, holding his horn up for a toast that was eagerly met by the men around him. 

Jon expected Tormund to move on with other points of the battle, but he just kept singing Jon's praises, talking about the dragon riding and his history with the Free Folk, and the whole dying thing, and he just kept going. Everyone else was drunk enough to not think twice about it. 

Until, at least, Tormund leaned down a planted a big one right on Jon's mouth. "You're such a cunt with all the ways you try to die on me, you know. Bloody rude, not like a lordling or king should be." 

"You're drunk," Jon said, unable to stop smiling. 

"Aye. I'm drunk, but you're incredible even when I'm not." 

"You should probably stop for the night," Jon suggested, reaching for the horn. 

Instead of giving it over-- which, to be fair, Jon hadn't expected to happen-- or moving the horn out of Jon's reach, he picked Jon up out of his seat, sat in it himself, then pulled Jon back down onto his lap. 

"...Or do that." He tried to get up, but Tormund wrapped an arm around his waist. He might be drunk, but his grip was unyielding. Jon sighed and leaned back, putting an arm around Tormund's shoulders to get comfortable. 

"So," Sansa said, standing next to him with her cup of wine, "you and Tormund Giantsbane?" 

Jon shrugged helplessly. "What can I say, he's a different person when we're alone." He wasn't really, not at all, but he didn't want Sansa to judge him too hard for this. 

"You don't need to defend yourself to me," she said, clearly amused at the idea. "He clearly worships you." 

"He doesn't worship me," Jon argued, rolling his eyes. "He's just drunk and-" 

"And what?" Tormund interjected, one of his hands moving to a dangerous territory. 

"Drunk and high on the fact that we both managed to make it out of this war alive." 

Tormund hummed, not stopping what his hand was doing. 

Sansa cleared her throat, and he paused for a moment. "Well, you two have fun... celebrating for the rest of the night. Jon, remember to close the door, otherwise everything echoes." She toasted them with her cup, took a sip, then wandered off. 

Jon tilted his head back after she walked away so that he could talk directly into Tormund's ear. "I told you not to touch my cock in public, remember?" 

"Aye, I remember." 

"And you agreed to it." 

"Aye, but that was before you rode a bloody dragon. You got more handsome overnight." 

"Then let's go to my room and you can touch me as much as you want." 

Tormund tilted his head back and drained the rest of his wine. Jon had to help him keep his balance when they stood up, and he wondered if Tormund would even be able to get it up. 

Jon nodded at Daenerys as they left the main table, and she nodded back, an amused smirk on her face that was not dissimilar to the look Sansa had given him. 

* * *

"What're you doing now that the war is over?" Tormund asked. Queen Daenerys was marching her army towards King's Landing, but Jon hadn't said whether or not he was going with her. 

"I don't know," Jon admitted. "I haven't had a chance to think about it." 

"Well, the rest of the Free Folk and I are heading back to Castle Black in a few days. With the white walkers gone, there's no reason we can't go home." 

Jon blinked. "Oh." He... hadn't realised. Of course Tormund was leaving, up north was his home. The only reason he'd left it was because they all would have died otherwise. Now that the threat was gone, it made sense that he was returning. "That makes sense. I guess you're still saying that this isn't north enough for you?" 

"It's north, but it's not true north. It's not home." 

Jon nodded, stalwartly staring at the marching Unsullied and not Tormund. "I'm sure you'll be happy there." 

"You're not coming with us?" 

"What?" Jon asked, glancing at Tormund in surprise. 

"You've got the real north in you now, it's part of you. You could come with me." 

"I-" 

"You keep insisting you're not a Stark, that you're not a lord or a king, that you're just Jon Snow. So _be_  Jon Snow." 

Jon swallowed, looking back at the army. "You never said anything about us being... an us. Fucking a few times when we both nearly died isn't really a relationship." 

"Your memory get taken when you were flying up in the sky or are you just this dumb?" 

"I'm probably just this dumb." The difference between friends and lovers was generally sex, and there was no denying that they'd been friends for an age. 

"I don't fuck around little crow. I'm yours, you're mine, that's all there is to it." 

"That's part of a marriage ceremony for us-- those words." 

"So what do I have to do to make it official? Give you some flowers? Talk about how much I love sex with you? I'll do either, I'm not ashamed." 

"You don't- don't do that Tormund, gods." 

"Why? You don't want me to?" 

"Not to prove a point." Jon took a deep breath. "You mean it? That I can go north with you to live?" 

"No, I lied," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Yes I meant it." He slung an arm around Jon's shoulders. "You gonna come with us and live free or not? And before you say no, think about Ghost." He jerked his chin at where the direwolf was standing, looking at them. 

"Of course I'm going with you, you don't have to blackmail me." 

"Don't know what blackmail is." 

"It doesn't matter," Jon said, shaking his head. He leaned into Tormund's side. "Of course I'm coming home with you." 

"You don't think of this place as your home?" 

Jon glanced around, at the streets and walls he'd known so well as a child. He knew every stone in Winterfell, but the same could be said of the area just north of the Wall. "No," he admitted. "Not anymore. This is Sansa's now, not mine. My place is with you." 

Tormund grinned. "Now you're getting it, Jon. Let's go." 


End file.
